The First Quarter Quell
by KDSanders
Summary: As the 25th Hunger Games nears, 18-year-old District 10 girl, Brie is filled with both worry and relief as her last Reaping day approaches.  But a twist in this years games will cause more trouble than she'd ever expected.  Rating for violence. CH 2 up.
1. Reaping

**(A/N: In honor of the release of the Hunger Games movie I decide to give my spin to the first Quarter Quell. Yes I know that Catching Fire tells us the conditions of the 25****th**** Hunger Games…but I am ignoring that….LOL)**

**The Reaping**

Her hands shook as she brushed her sandy blonde hair. One more time, she thought. One more time and I'll never have to do it again. That wasn't entirely true. She still had six more years before her family was done with this awfulness. And what about the future? Her children? Her nieces and nephews? Would they have to stand there like she had for the last six years and pray not to hear their names?

Surely it couldn't go on that long. It had already been 25 years. 25 years of being reminded that they had fought for their freedom and lost. 25 years of knowing that their lives belonged to The Capitol.

Brie looked in the mirror one last time and took a deep breath. "One more time," she said aloud this time.

She stepped out of her bedroom and found her mother brushing her brother's hair, the same sandy blonde as hers.

"Trotter," she said with an uneasy tremble in her voice. "If you stand still this wouldn't take as long."

Brie couldn't blame him. Trotter was still young. The Reaping is still so frightening at that age. At 12 this will be his first Reaping Day.

A bell chimed in the square. Brie's father stood up solemnly. "Time to go," was all he said.

Trotter held tightly to his mother's hand until they reached the square. There the Peacekeepers ushered him into the barricade and off to the boys' side. Brie walked alone, her face blank and emotionless. She did not wait for the Peacekeepers to direct her, she simply walked into the girls' barricade and stood waiting for this day to end.

After a few moments the crowd grew to full size. A sudden hush fell as a woman mounted the stage. It was her, Orszebet Skiffle, District 10 escort.

Orszebet was the only image most of District 10 had ever seen of the Capitol and from the looks of her, the Capitol was no where Brie wanted to visit. Her long black hair was tipped with bright green. The same bright green was mirrored in her lipstick and the eyeshadow that formed a bar of color from temple to temple across her face. Her outfit was a skintight yellow bodysuit. The shoulders of it were boxy and pointed, a similar shape was added to the hips.

"Good Morning," she said in her familiar sultry voice. "Or should I say Howdy," she laughed. Her laughter sent chills down Brie's spine. "The day has come again, Reaping Day!"

The crowd applauded on cue.

"Now as you know this year is our 25th Hunger Games. Our beloved Capitol has decided to mark the event with a Quarter Quell, a hunger games unlike any other, an extra reminder of the dangers of dissention and rebellion."

There were murmurs throughout the crowd. What else could they do? The capitol was already taking two of the district's children and forcing them into the area to fight for their lives. What more of a reminder could they give?

"This year," Orszebet continued, "the tributes must be very special. This years tributes," she paused for effect, "must be siblings. "

There were shrieks somewhere in the crowd. They were quickly hushed as Peacekeepers moved in to find the culprits.

"This years ballots contain only the names of a sibling pair. If you have no sibling," she instructed, "you cannot volunteer, I am sorry." She put on a little pout. "Now," she said perking up instantly. "On to the excitement! First, do we have any volunteers?" She waited, as if she truly expected to hear someone speak. "No? Honor and Glory on the field of battle not appealing?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well then, to the ballots."

She cranked the handle of the ballot cage and they started to rustle and tumble inside. When it came to a stop she reached in and removed one.

"This years District 10 tributes are…"

The silence was so thick it was almost touchable.

"Brie and Trotter Jamison."

Brie's heart stopped. The world around her started to spin. It wasn't until the Peacekeeper grabbed her arm and moved her toward the stage. She heard crying now. It was familiar. It was Trotter.

She yanked her arm away from the Peacekeeper and moved next to Trotter, taking his hand.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll get you home. I swear."

They were hurried into the Justice Building. Trotter was shaking with silent sobs. She was trying to think of something to say to him when the door opened and her parents stepped in.

"Mommy," Trotter said rushing into the crying woman's arms. "Mommy I don't want to go. Please don't let them take me. Please."

Mrs. Jamison couldn't speak, she just hugged her son tightly.

Brie looked at her father, her blue eyes searching his for some kind of comfort.

"Can they do this," she asked simply.

"It seems they can," he said almost chocking on the words.

"I'll protect him," she said. "I'll do what I have to keep him alive and get him back to you."

Her father wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his tears wetting her hair.

He could say nothing. He knew this was what had to be. Trotter had to win and that meant Brie had to die.


	2. Makeover

**(A/N: Yes I'm planning on walking you through most of the pre-game activities. It is through these that we get to know and love our tribute before we send them into the ring. I don't expect you to pull for my girl simply because I write it that way. Anyway, hope you're enjoying it. Please feel free to review.)**

**Makeover**

The train ride to the Capitol would have been lovely if not for that hell that waited for her when she arrived. The time was filled with lessons in etiquette from Orszebet, meals that could feed multiple families back in district 10, and uneasy sleep. On her first night the nightmares came. An arrow fired from nowhere. A direct path to Trotter's heart. No time to stop it. She woke in a cold sweat wanting nothing more than to make sure her brother was still whole and breathing.

In route she had her chance to meet her mentor. Rio Langston was a young mentor. Brie had been too young for the Reaping when Rio had been chosen, but she did remember her. She'd secured the only gun in the whole arena and picked off the other tributes one by one in a matter of hours. It was the shortest Hunger Games in history, and the last time they'd included a gun as a possible weapon. Rio kept to her self back home, something she continued on the train. Every time Brie spoke she simply got a look. Message received, Brie thought, your job doesn't start until we get to the Capitol.

Trotter's mentor was substantially warmer. Shetland Carter was well known in district 10. He'd won the tenth Hunger games at just 15. He loved his celebrity status and flourished in the limelight. He spent most of the boasting about his success in the games and dropping a lot of names Trotter didn't recognize.

The Capitol was unlike anything she'd ever dreamed of. The buildings were larger and more opulent than it had appeared on tv. She was ashamed to admit how impressed she really was. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine winning. Could this become part of her life, fancy parties in the Capitol, luxurious meals, fame and fortune? Would anyone really blame her for fighting to protect herself? No, they wouldn't. Her parents would never blame her if she came back and Trotter didn't. No one actually expects her to be able to protect him. The real question was, could she live with it? Could she live the rest of her life in luxury knowing she couldn't have saved him? Again, the answer was no. Trotter would live or he would die, but Brie's fate was already decided.

As she was hurried into her room a group of people gathered round undressing, washing, waxing, and plucking. She felt like a cow; caught, corralled and washed before the slaughter. No one spoke to her. They went about their business until she was a blank slate of milk white skin, sandy blonde hair, and pale blue eyes. They gave her a dressing gown and sat her in a swiveling chair surrounded by mirrors. She sat there in silence for what felt like hours until a woman joined them.

She was short and plump, but a tight corset around her waist accentuated her bosom and hips. She wore a flowing black dress that trailed behind her as she walked. To Brie's surprise she was completely bald, and her head was decorated with brilliant floral tattoos.

"Hello," she said in a voice that seemed much too high to belong to her. "I am Lavinia East. I am your Stylist."

Brie stood, remembering Orszebet's lessons. "Nice to meet you I'm…"

"Brie Jamison," she interrupted. "I know. Such a lovely name, Brie. My favorite kind of cheese."

"I've never had it," Brie said honestly.

"Then I'll have to find some. It'd be a shame not to ever know your self don't you think?"

Brie didn't answer.

"My job, as you've probably guessed is to style and dress you for the events leading up to the games. First we will have the Tribute Parade where the capitol will present you to the world, then the interviews. All of your other time will be spent training but that is for your mentor to instruct. First we will start with the major things." She clapped her hands and an assistant handed her a syringe. Brie tensed. What on earth was that for?

"This will make you sleep," Lavinia answer as if reading her mind. When you wake up you'll be a new woman, but trust me when I say it won't hurt and you won't remember a thing."

Brie awoke sitting back in the swiveling chair. She didn't know how long she'd be asleep but the sun had set outside. She fell strange. Her body felt heavy and hard to move. At first she assumed it was the drug they'd given her but as she looked down she saw that she was indeed heavier. In her slumber her bosom had grown noticeable and from the feel of it so had her buttocks. Brie felt ill. Was that all they had changed? She felt her face, not daring to look in the mirror.

"It's all the same," Lavinia answered entering the room. "It was too pretty to mess with. I just make a few tweaks to the big ticket areas. A little augmentation of your natural gifts."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"That's the drugs, it will pass. Now," she said, "let's do something with that hair. Scissors," she commanded and one of her assistants supplied a pair.

In a blur of movement and noise Lavinia snipped away at Brie's hair. She watched in horror as it fell around her until there was a large pile of sandy blonde in a circle on the floor. Finally Lavinia traded her scissors for a bottle of something. It was clear and thick. She rubbed it between her hands and worked it through Brie's now short locks.

After a minute she stood back and nodded at her own work.

"Take a look," she said gesturing to the mirror.

Brie turned her chair and looked. Some how she seemed to have aged 10 years in a matter of minutes. The scared teenage girl no longer sat there. In her place was a fully-grown woman. She stood, uneasily for a moment, then stepped forward to the mirror.

Her curves had certainly been, augmented, as Lavinia put it. She let her hands move over the new curves over her body. She shuttered as she felt it. The skin was hers. The muscle, the nerves, they all responded to her touch the way her own body would. This was her body now.

She looked upward. To her relief Lavinia had told the truth, her face was untouched. Her eyes, the same pale blue as her father's, looked out at her. Her nose, a copy of her mother's, still had the same slope. The curve of her mouth was still the same, even the tiny scar in the corner where she'd been kicked while milking a cow. It was still her.

Her hair was gone. Shorter than women in District 10 ever wore their hair and spiked up wildly in all directions.

"Well," Lavinia prompted, "what do you think?"

"I look," she paused, "grown up."

"That's the idea," the stylist boasted. "Did you know you're the oldest tribute this year? Quiet a coincidence considering your brother is the youngest, but that's beside the point. I wanted to turn you into an icon, a sex symbol, a bombshell all of the high fashion companies pull for because they want you selling their lines. Trust me, the woman I've made you will get more sponsors than the girl you were."

A bell chimed somewhere and Lavinia uttered a curse Brie had never heard.

"Time for dinner," she said taking Brie's new measurements. "Then it's off to bed. If you feel you won't be able to sleep ask Orszebet and she'll have something brought up to help. Makeup can cover baggy eyes, but I'd prefer not to have to."

Brie's changes were met with gasps as she entered the district 10 dining area. Orszebet clapped with delight, bragging how she just knew Lavinia had been the right one for the job. Shetland made some comment about finally having company as District 10 heartthrob. Rio just scoffed and went back to her dinner. Trotter was silent until she sat next to him.

"What did they do to you," he asked.

She shrugged, "some fancy Capitol surgery I guess. It doesn't hurt though and there are no stitches."

"Is it forever?"

"For as long as I've got in the games," she ran her hand through his hair. They'd cut his too. "It's still me Trot. They changed the outside, but it's still the same ol' Brie."

She kissed her brother's forehead and he smiled, returning to his meal.

She couldn't tell what changes they'd made to him. They weren't nearly as extreme as hers but they were definitely there. He looked younger. His voice was higher, his face fuller. Then she realized, his stylist must be doing the same as Lavinia. She (or he, she supposed) was playing on the fact that Trotter was the youngest tribute in this year's games. He was the underdog. The younger he looked, the more sympathy he got and that meant more sponsors.

She hoped the two designers were right. As the oldest and youngest, together they would need all the help they could get.


End file.
